


will the god of the dead suffice?

by SophieGraceJ



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types, Assassin's Creed Odyssey
Genre: F/M, I'm sorry this is so bad, M/M, Sexual Tension, hades is sexy af, i may continue this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-28
Updated: 2019-06-28
Packaged: 2020-05-28 09:27:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19391272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SophieGraceJ/pseuds/SophieGraceJ
Summary: You stumbled from Ros … “He can’t be. He doesn’t have three heads, he doesn’t look like he could hurt a fly.”Another stream of laughter came from him as he knelt down to Ros and began to pet him, just like any other dog owner would. You couldn’t hold back a smile at the sight, although the disbelief was rolling in waves inside your head. “My sweet Persephone doesn’t appreciate his ‘other’ form back in Elysium. ‘He’d scare my subjects to death’ she once said to me.”You scoffed. “How funny. You and your wife really have a great sense of humour. What’re you planning to do with me?”





	will the god of the dead suffice?

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize for the low quality, I was impatient and just wanted to get this out there. Very much obsessed with Hades from the Fate of Atlantis DLC XD   
> I may continue this, I need to make it better than this though haha

You weren’t even supposed to be there. It was an unfortunate sequence of events for you, one after the other. Shadows follow, light evades. Despair triumphs over hope. 

You weren’t supposed to be dead. And you weren’t, but for some reason, you were walking around in what you’d recently discovered to be the Greek underworld. Sure, Elysium was lovely, you were recruited as a servant for Queen Persephone and were ignored by the majority of her following (especially Hermes). No one seemed to mind your awkward presence, but the puzzle piece didn’t seem to fit. 

Too insincere and perfect. Beautiful fields and forever sun, crystal waters and songs of glory and legends weren’t enough to disperse the eerie whispers in the back of your head. 

‘You’re supposed to be alive.’ 

‘You didn’t even believe in gods and goddesses before now.’

‘Sooner or later they’ll realise you don’t belong.’

And by sheer luck (or cursed luck), you met Adonis. The chosen heartbreak and love of Persephone herself. Unrequited, love triangles, broken hearts, mortals and gods. He wanted to leave more than you did, so, you acted in a way most would. 

You confided in him, asked him questions, teamed up in secret. He was kind enough, selfish at times, vain and prideful but compassionate to your goal of leaving the world of the dead. It was going well, until your escape plans were founded by Persephone’s pet, Hermes. 

The naivety in you thought it was better that you took all the blame, Hermes seemed merciful (the exception being for Adonis), and he was, but Persephone wasn’t, not in the least. 

“My beloved Adonis has told me some very worrisome things, mortal. You were planning on smuggling him to Aphrodite.” Persephone was atop her throne, violet eyes judging you, befitting the Queen of the dead. You weren’t dead though, and you tried to explain that to her. 

Denial deafened your voice on her ears however, “Well, shall I fix that.”

It wasn’t a question, but a threat. And that threat soon became reality when your body went frigid, bones stuck and ignoring your thoughts. Golden light drowning you in a loud hum of energy. Fallen to your knees, the last thing you saw was Adonis’ guilt-ridden face before flying through the air and into a dark chasm. 

You awoke to wetness on your skin, a slippery thing licking up and down your face, up your nose and in your ears.

Ros. Persephone’s other pet. 

At least there was one nice thing. “Good boy Ros, you think you can help me?” Scratching behind his floppy ears and along the bridge of his snout, he wagged his tail and nudged you to an opening out of the ashen surroundings. 

Again, luck wasn’t on your side when you found yourself in more ashen landscapes, sky dark and wounded. Nothing like Elysium. “Okay Ros, show me the way to salvation.”

The journey to what looked nothing like salvation took its toll on you. A palace … instantly, the King of the Dead came to mind. 

“Well, I’m gonna guess this is where Hades lives, right Ros?” 

“You’ve caused great troubles in paradise, mortal. My wife has sent word of you and your scheming.” Cold, fluid, molten off his tongue. You should have expected your day to get worse, but shock wasn’t something you could evade when you trembled away from the voice and looked behind to see the literal god of the dead. 

No beard. Skin, grey and sickly but otherwise flawless, lankier than you imagined, eyes red and very much examining you as an insect, rather than a human. Your eyes couldn’t lose sight of the axe either. 

Was Persephone’s husband and his axe your punishment? 

“It wasn’t like that. I only wanted to leave, I’m not actually dead-”

He laughed. Of all the responses and reactions you were almost puking over, abrupt laughter wasn’t one of them. It was pleasant, but wasn’t going to solve any issues. Not even the endearing lines moving on his face as he smiled down at you. 

His eyes flickered toward Ros, and he let out a sigh, “Cerberos has taken a liking to you, dear mortal. He’s not usually this inviting to the living.” 

You stumbled from Ros … “He can’t be. He doesn’t have three heads, he doesn’t look like he could hurt a fly.” 

Another stream of laughter came from him as he knelt down to Ros and began to pet him, just like any other dog owner would. You couldn’t hold back a smile at the sight, although the disbelief was rolling in waves inside your head. “My sweet Persephone doesn’t appreciate his ‘other’ form back in Elysium. ‘He’d scare my subjects to death’ she once said to me.” 

You scoffed. “How funny. You and your wife really have a great sense of humour. What’re you planning to do with me?” 

Red eyes peeked up at you, though he barely had to look up, his head reached just above your breasts when he was on his knees like that. He was indeed tall. “Oh, I am certain Persephone would have wanted me to send you to Tartaros to suffer for eternity, but I beg to differ on such a punishment.” 

“Why? I thought you would follow her every whim,” you jabbed, for some reason wanting to test his resolve. Persephone didn’t even like him, part of the reason you were being punished was because you were trying to help her own captive escape. 

The once neutral energy between the two of you fractured, dissolved into something deadly. He rose from the ground, huffing through his nose. “Please, dear mortal, if you have something to say, say it.” 

A challenge. You were already in the underworld; how could it get worse?

“We both know why I’m really here. I was caught smuggling her lover out of Elysium,” his eyes slimmed, nostrils flaring, but you were quick to continue, “but don’t worry, he’s just as receptive to her as she is to you. Literally grasping at any reason to keep your distance.”

Instead of a flick of his hand, sending you to the wicked depths of the underworld, he smirked, placing his hands on his hips. “You so desire to be punished. So much so you’re willing to use petty insults and passive aggressiveness like a child. You’re in my realm now, you’ll have to do better than that.” 

Brows raised, hands clenched at your sides, the bile climbed up your throat without resistance. “Oh, my game is much better than yours. I bet I could get laid without having to abduct my literal niece.” 

His hand swiped at the air, so was your balance, golden light the last visuals before utter darkness, and falling down a chasm. 

Shit. 

Expecting a rough landing, another plot twist revealed itself to you. 

Inside the palace. Drooped in cushions and soft fabrics, body lagged and limbs falling off the sides of the bed. Alone in darkness once more. You could do with a kiss from Ros. “Ros? You there? I could really do with a lick.” 

“Will the god of the dead suffice?” 

There he was, making his way to the bed with the smirk of the devil, not the king of the underworld. His crown gone, black hair silken and slipping over his shoulders. You shivered under a new gaze, red and passionate. 

Wiggling back, your robes crawled up your thighs, showing off much to him. Your fingers scratched at the blankets beneath you, the sight of his eyes looking you over, spiking all sorts of feelings. “Like I said, this is my realm, my rules.”

His knee dipped in the mattress, “I can say confidently that my ‘game’ exceeds yours by an eternity.” he brought himself closer, body over yours, arms on either side of you, long hair falling down to the point of your nose and atop your hot cheeks. “Persephone is not my niece.” He reclined his torso down, pressing his chest into yours, your mouth watery and open, breathless and consumed with his scent. “And I don’t get laid, I fuck,” he said into your mouth, just before collecting your lips with his.


End file.
